


Threads of Fate

by skillzyo



Series: Threads of Fate [1]
Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: An AU of an AU, Angst, F/F, In Fate's Hands: Hard Mode, because I love dying and being dead
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-12
Updated: 2017-08-12
Packaged: 2018-12-14 15:27:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11786031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skillzyo/pseuds/skillzyo
Summary: Fate is woven from many strands.  But what happens when the threads of destiny begin to unravel?----An AU of In Fate's Hands. The night Waverly helps Nicole, Fish, and Levi escape from the castle, nothing goes wrong. If you haven't read any of In Fate's Hands, you might be a bit lost.





	Threads of Fate

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [In Fate's Hands](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8153071) by [skillzyo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/skillzyo/pseuds/skillzyo), [TheGaySmurf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGaySmurf/pseuds/TheGaySmurf). 



> This is an idea I've been kicking around for a few months and it wouldn't leave me alone. I figured we were far enough ahead in Fates that I could post this as a sort of... supplementary/bonus series. A 'what if' type of thing that explores what could have happened if nothing had gone wrong at the gate and how it would have changed Waverly and Nicole's fates. Also, having an odd number of fics was killing me and I needed to make it even.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you all enjoy. Thank you to TheGaySmurf for looking it over for mistakes. A special thank you to my friend  
> Ashley for suggesting the tag 'In Fate's Hands: Hard Mode.' lmao

This was the moment.

After all of the planning and sneaking and _lying_ she had done throughout the day, the tension that had rested between Waverly's shoulder blades dissipated as she watched the rebels walk beneath the gate.

They were going to be free.

When Nicole looked over her shoulder she felt an ache in her chest, and tears pricked at her eyes. She sniffled, and wiped them away, but the ache in her chest remained.

It was the last time Waverly would see her, so she told herself to hold on to the memory of Nicole for as along as she could.

She offered a weak smile, but it wasn't returned. Instead, Nicole leaned heavily against Levi and the three of them passed beneath the gate. One of the guards was speaking to her, but all she could focus on was the backs of the rebels as they crossed the space between the gate and the forest.

When the three of them stepped beyond the treeline, Waverly breathed a sigh of relief and her shoulders sagged.

No alarms had sounded.

Nicole would be safe.

The press of the jar against her thigh, however, reminded her there was still work to be done. She couldn't relax yet. Not until the gate was disabled.

After she was escorted back to the castle, she remained in a solar near the entrance hall and paced across the floor, biding her time until Nicole and the others had time to get far from the castle walls. The tears that had stung her eyes earlier now fell in heavy drops, soaking her cheeks. She covered her mouth to muffle the sob that broke through.

It was a brief amount of time—too short—but she allowed herself to grieve for the friendship she'd lost.

The one she had ruined.

The one she never should have had.

Then she took a steadying breath and set her shoulders as she prepared herself for the last step.

 

* * *

 

The blast at the gate forced Waverly to the ground, along with the guards who held her. The world around her was muffled as she stared up at the blanket of stars above her, dazed from the explosion. The clanging of a bell reached her ears. The alarm, she realized, but they were too late.

Nicole and the others were far from here. Far from any harm Robert had planned for them.

Only Waverly remained.

When rough hands lifted her from the ground and turned her around, she smiled despite the unbridled rage she saw in Bobo's face and the knowledge that, for the first time, she was the cause of it.

Nicole was safe.

 

* * *

 

She gasped, and the icy air burned her lungs.

Her eyes watered at the brightness of the fire that blazed in front of her, the light bouncing off the drifts of fresh snow that surrounded her. A large man sat beside the fire on a hollow log. A heavy fur coat was draped over his shoulders and the bottom of it dipped into the snow. Both sides of his head had been shaved, leaving only the dark strip in the middle.

He felt familiar, and the way he looked at her now, she thought she should know him, but when she tried to remember—a name, a title, a time they'd shared—there was nothing but a blank space where the memory should have been. Her heart pounded and the sound thundered in her ears as the panic swelled in her chest.

She needed to remember.

Bony fingers grasped her chin and forced her to turn her head.

She was met with hard eyes.

She tried to jerk away, but found she couldn't move without something biting into her wrists.

“It's rude to ignore people,” the woman said, tightening her hold. “You'll do well to remember that.”

“I'm sorry.”

She winced at the sound of her own voice. It was foreign to her ears. Unrecognizable. But the grip on her chin loosened and the strange woman spoke.

“You will be.”

A heavy pressure settled behind her eyes and she sucked in a sharp breath. Her vision blurred, only to sharpen again a moment later. Her surroundings had changed. The woman and man were gone, replaced by a group of others she didn't know, their bodies partially buried in the snow and their skin tinted blue from the cold. She turned her head, searching for the fire and the two people who had been with her in the trees, but the edges of her vision blurred again, and the scene melted into a different one.

Those who had been frozen in the snow were walking now, muttering to themselves in voices too low for her to hear.

The scene had barely settled before it shifted into a new one, where metal hissed as blades crossed. The same people from before had found others—a small group of three—and had engaged them. Their shouts filled the air and blood stained the snow around them.

Then the fire was in front of her again, along with the woman and man. A dull ache resided in the front of her head and sweat dotted her skin. Her breaths came in heavy pants and she sagged forward. Whatever restrained her bit into her wrists and kept her from falling completely. Slender fingers clutched her chin again and forced her to meet the icy gaze once more. A quiet whimper escaped as the ache in her head worsened.

“Oh, yes,” the woman said, and the smile that followed made her skin crawl. “You will most definitely be sorry.”

 

* * *

 

Time passed, though she couldn't be sure how much.

The woman and man never left. A small blessing, for each time her mind was taken somewhere else, she could at least be sure of where she was when she came back. However, the ache in her head had worsened, pounding behind her eyes. Sleep offered no respite, for horrific creatures awaited her in her dreams and caused her to wake in a cold sweat. She began to fear it instead, and fought it off as long as she could before she had to succumb to exhaustion and return to those dark places.

Each day, the quiet man who tended the bright fire was kind enough to give her food and water, even though the churning in her stomach meant she could hardly force it down. Yet he wouldn't loosen the restraints around her wrists, nor would he explain what they wanted or why she saw the things she did.

Worse, neither one of them would say her name.

She just wanted to know it—just one clue to cling to about who she was—but neither would give her the satisfaction, no matter how many times she asked and eventually begged them to tell her.

 

* * *

 

“You want this to end, don't you?”

Bloodshot eyes met the strange woman's gaze.

The pain in her head was constant now, as more images forced themselves into her mind, and the only way to relieve it was to sleep, but there was no hope of that. As exhausted as she was, each time she closed her eyes, she saw those creatures. Sometimes, she would see them in the shadows, watching and waiting for her to fall asleep so they could slip into her dreams.

“You can make it end, you know. The pain, the nightmares, those silly visions of yours,” the strange woman said. She shook her head and tsk'd. “Unfortunately, you lost the one thing that could help you, you stupid, stupid girl.”

“I'm sorry,” she said, her voice hoarse. Tears welled in her eyes. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.”

The strange woman held her gaze, then bared her teeth in a smile that reminded her of the creatures that always invaded her sleep. Her breath caught in her throat and she looked away as her heart hammered in her chest.

“Yes, I do believe you are finally _truly_ sorry.”

The restraints around her wrists were gone and she fell to her knees in the snow. She whimpered as a new sensation settled in her head. A steady thrum that demanded her attention and made her stare into the shadows beyond the trees.

Then the woman knelt in front of her, blocking her view.

“You can feel the skull now, can't you? Pulling at your senses?” She nodded and wrapped her arms around her torso, wishing she could block out the sensation, but it was too strong to ignore. “ _That_ is where your salvation lies. If you follow that tug—if you find the skull—all of this will stop.” A touch against the side of her head made her shiver. “And you want this to stop, don't you?”

She nodded as tears trailed down her cheeks.

“Good. Now hold still.”

The woman pulled a knife from robes she wore. Bloodshot eyes widened, but she found she couldn't move, even as the woman stepped behind her. Her breaths were heavy and she met the gaze of the man by the fire, but he only watched as the woman undid the cloak and pulled down the collar of the loose tunic she wore, revealing the skin below the back of her neck. A sharp edge bit into her skin and she cried out as a pattern was etched into her flesh. It was a small mark, but the hot pain lingered even as the woman stepped in front of her again.

For the first time, the low rumble of the man's voice reached her ears. “You could have done that long before now.”

The woman smiled. “True, but I wanted her to remember.” She knelt again. “Besides, it was just a little sting, wasn't it, Dearie? A small price to pay for my protection. And nothing compared to what you'll feel if you fail.”

The large man approached and loomed over the both of them. “You've had your time with her. You'll get what you want soon enough,” he said. “Now let me speak with her.”

The woman looked over her shoulder. “I've never known you as a man who valued parting words.” A laugh followed. “I forget you’ve got a bit of a soft spot for her.” She sighed and pushed herself to her feet. “Go ahead then. Say your piece so the little brat can get to work.”

The man took the woman's place and knelt in front of her. A heavy hand rested on her shoulder, distracting her from the pain at the base of her neck.

“You're going to be okay,” he said, his voice softer than she expected. “You are strong. Stronger than you and I could ever imagine. You'll survive this and you will be forgiven.” He squeezed her shoulder then focused on tying a sack to the belt around her waist. “Find the skull,” he said as he finished the last knot. “Find it, and this nightmare will be over.”

He stood again, and she whimpered as he stepped away from her.

A muffled conversation between the man and woman followed before the woman stepped in front of her again. She was helped to her feet, though she nearly crumpled again as the ache in her head made her vision swim. The man's hands steadied her before she could fall.

“Go,” the woman said. “Follow the tug between you and the skull.”

She hesitated for a moment, but the pull against her senses was too strong to ignore. She stepped forward and passed through the light of the fire until she reached the shadows of the trees on the other side.

Her heart thudded painfully as she remembered the creatures from her nightmares, pale and hulking with bloodstained teeth.

She took a deep breath to calm herself, then stepped into the darkness beyond the trees.     

 

* * *

 

Her feet ached, blistered and torn from the long trek to wherever it was she was being pulled. Her breath formed puffs of white clouds in the cold air and her throat was raw from the cough that tickled her throat. The images in her head—visions, the woman had called them—intensified the further she walked from the fire that had warmed her.

People she didn't know dying in front of her eyes, only to be alive in the vision that followed, killing someone else she didn't know, only for them to be alive in the next that she had. It was a dizzying circle, and none of the visions answered the question at the forefront of her mind. All they did was leave a fierce ache behind her eyes that spread through her head and made her blood pound in her ears.

There were days that her head hurt so fiercely, she couldn't bring herself to move from the pile of snow she'd fallen in. Then she'd feel a burning at the nape of her neck that wouldn't cease until she forced herself to walk again. She stumbled several times, either because a vision overwhelmed her, or from exhaustion.

Yet she couldn't sleep.

Not with those things lurking in the shadows, waiting to descend on her and invade her dreams.

Occasionally, when the headaches were tolerable, she'd distract herself from the looming figures in the trees and try to remember.

The man at the fire.

Her own name.

Anything.

But there was nothing there, and she soon gave up on the endeavor in order to focus on the only thing that mattered outside of the pounding in her head.

The skull.

 

* * *

 

It was snowing.

Not hard, but the harsh wind whipped the flakes into a frenzy as it howled in her ears. All she could see in front of her was white space. With shaky hands, she pulled the cloak against her body to block the bitter wind, ducked her head, and continued to follow the tug of the skull.

However, in the blinding snow, she didn't see the drop. White had blended in with white and she didn't realize she was falling until it was too late. Then there had been a crack, followed by a sharp pain in her arm. She refused to look at it. Instead, she decided to lay there until the wind died down and the snow cleared.

The mark at the base of her neck burned, but she was so tired, she stayed where she had fallen even after the wind died and revealed a bright, blue sky above the bare trees. She had been so intent on following the tug from the skull, she hadn't noticed it before.

It was beautiful.

A smile spread across her face as her breathing slowed and her eyes closed.

 

* * *

 

She jerked awake in a cold sweat, memories of large, pale figures still fresh in her mind. They'd been dragging her again, and she swore she could still feel the lacerations on her legs where the gravel had bitten into her skin.

When the nightmare faded, she started to rise, only to find she couldn't move her right arm. Panic filled her and she quickly pushed herself up with her left, immediately regretting the action when her head spun and the room tilted around her.

“Careful, careful,” a deep voice said.

Someone gently eased her back down and she coughed into the pillow beneath her head. As her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she realized she was no longer outside in the snow, but inside where it was warm. Blankets covered her now, but she still shivered beneath them. A man stood beside her and for a moment, she thought back to her nightmares, afraid she had actually been carried off.

But he was different.

Human.

His face was covered in a thick beard and a scar had been carved through his lips down to his chin. However, his smile was kind as he looked her over.

“You got yourself into a bit of trouble, Little One,” he said in a gruff voice as he checked her arm. It was in a sling, she realized, pressed close to her chest so she couldn't jostle it. “What were you doing out there all by yourself, huh? Did you get separated from someone?”

She avoided his soft gaze and stared blankly up at the ceiling.

 _Had_ she been separated from someone?

She didn't know.

When she didn't answer, he shook his head. “That's alright. You don't have to talk. Just rest a bit,” he said. “Gus'll be in here soon. You'll do well to eat at least a little bit. ”

Eat.

The thought of food made her stomach churn. She rolled onto her side and curled up against the wall. The man continued to talk, but his words were lost as the room dissolved around her.

There was no bloodshed this time.

No screams.

No death.

Just a woman sitting in a tent. Her hair, a dark red, was cut short and framed a pale face. She held a block of wood in one hand while the other dragged a small knife along its edges. The tip of her tongue peeked out as she concentrated on her work.

A soft hum reached her ears, interspersed with the scrape of metal against wood.

It was soothing.

She wanted to stay there, but the image faded far too soon.

She was back in the dimly lit room and the familiar pounding in her head had returned. There was a hand on her shoulder that guided her away from the wall. The man from before hovered over her, concern etched across his face. A woman—Gus, she presumed—stood beside him, her grey hair cropped close to her stern face. A steaming bowl filled her hands. After the man carefully eased her up from the bed so she could sit against the wall, Gus offered spoonful after spoonful of a warm broth.

It soothed her throat, but it wasn't long before her stomach twisted over the meager contents. Another spoonful was offered, and she shook her head, afraid she might lose what she'd already eaten.

Gus sighed. “I suppose you've had enough for now. We'll try again later.” She set the bowl aside. “Now, how are you feelin'? You were in a rough way when Curtis here found you out there in the snow.”

“Head hurts.”

She cringed at her hoarse voice. It was still unrecognizable. She didn't want to use it anymore.

The man and woman shared a look. Then Gus excused herself while Curtis stayed to watch over her. He smoothed her bangs over her forehead with a calloused hand and offered soothing words.

“You'll be alright,” he said. “Gus'll mix something up for the pain and you can get some sleep. Looks like you've been needing it.”

Her breath caught in her throat and her body tensed.

“No,” she said. “No, no, no. I need... I need to go.”

She tried to leave the bed, but she was no match for the hand on her shoulder.

“What you need is to rest,” he insisted. “You're hurt and sick. You'll do yourself no good, going out there again like this.”

She shook her head. “I need to go,” she said. “I need to find it.”

“Find what, Little One?” he asked. “Maybe we can help.”

“The skull. I need to find the skull,” she said. “It's out there somewhere and I need to find it!”

His brow furrowed in confusion and she knew he couldn't help her. Not with this. She tried again to move from the bed, only for a rush of dizziness to force her back down to the rough mattress. She groaned and rolled back onto her side, frustrated with herself. A gentle hand rested on her shoulder again.

“Don't worry yourself with that for now,” Curtis said. “Once you're better, you can focus on this uh... this skull business. And we'd be happy to go with you, if you'd let us. You shouldn't be out there all alone.”

She sighed and curled against the wall again.

The skull was tugging at her, insistent, but she squeezed her eyes shut.

It would have to wait.

 

* * *

 

She couldn't give them a name, but they didn't seem to mind.

Instead, they called her 'Little One.'

It may not have been her actual name, but it was said with such tenderness, it made a warmth spread through her whenever they called her by it. When her visions came, Curtis was there to steady her. She always caught a glimpse of sadness in his expression, but he would quickly hide it with a smile before he chased away the violent images the visions had brought.

The headaches persisted, making it hard for her to focus, but they did their best to help her through them. The tea Gus made could ease the pain, they discovered, but it also made her sleep, and with sleep came the nightmares. More often than not, she chose to suffer through the headaches rather than the creatures in her dreams, unless she was truly exhausted.

Most importantly, they made sure she ate, even if it was only a little at a time. She had forgotten before, and the provisions in the pouch tied to her belt had gone untouched because the headaches had chased away her appetite. They still did, but Gus and Curtis were adamant that she eat, so she found herself sipping at a bowl of broth each night while the two of them ate their own meal beside her bed.

One evening, Gus helped her wash away the sweat and grime in a warm bath. Then she'd trimmed the tangled ends of her hair and braided it. Curious fingers had ghosted over the mark below her neck, but Gus hadn't asked about it. She'd only looked at her with sad eyes as she offered a new set of clothes that were loose on her thin frame.

They were kind people.

She wanted to stay with them.

Sometimes she would pace the small room, warring with herself about what to do. The skull waited for her, she knew that. She could feel it out there, calling to her. Whispering in her ear, insisting that she come find it. It would make the headaches and the nightmares go away. She could be free of the figures that lurked in the shadows. The way the mark burned below her neck, she knew she should go.

But she wanted to stay.

 

* * *

 

“I don't know what kinda deals you've been making or with who, Little One, but it seems your arm's healed a good deal faster than we thought it would,” Gus said as she untied the sling. “How's that feel?”

She straightened it and, when there was no pain, she nodded and offered a weak smile.

“Good,” Gus said. “And your head?”

The smile faded and she bit her lip. She didn't want more of Gus's tea. Not when it would make her sleep and let those pale figures into her head.

Gus sighed. “Maybe it will fade by tonight.”

They both knew it wouldn't, but she appreciated the words.

“Now, I have to talk to you about somethin' important, so I need you to focus. Can you do that right now, Little One?” After she nodded, Gus continued. “Curtis and I, we've got a friend. She lives a little ways from here—maybe a few days of traveling—and he thinks she might be able to help you,” she said. “And maybe I don't quite believe in what he says she can do, but I'm willin' to hope it's true, if it means you'll get better.”

She stared blankly at Gus.

She already knew how to fix what was wrong with her.

“The skull,” she said, her voice hoarse from disuse. “I need to find the skull.”

Gus shook her head. “No, no, not that.” Gus covered her hands with her own. “Listen to me. We can leave tomorrow. Mattie will be able to get a good look at you. She's helped friends of ours before, though I still don't understand how. But chances are, she can help you, too. Do you understand?”

She shook her head. “The skull,” she said. “That's what I need to find.”

Gus sighed and rubbed the back of her neck before she rose from the side of the bed. Her voice shook as she said, “I'll be back with your supper soon. Just... Think about it, alright?”

Her stomach twisted into a tight knot as she watched Gus retreat through the door. She hadn't meant to upset her, but she already knew their friend couldn't help her. The skull was the only thing that would make it all stop. The mark at the base of her neck burned hotter than ever, and she hissed as she reached over her shoulder and pressed her fingers against it.

She'd already put it off for too long.

She sighed and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. The room tilted for a moment, but she steadied herself and walked towards the doorway, prepared to apologize to Gus for upsetting her. On the other side of it, however, she heard Gus and Curtis speaking in muffled voices as they prepared their evening meal. She paused with her hand on the wood and waited, not wanting to interrupt.

“I don't know what else to do, Curtis. She isn't sleepin' right. She can hardly eat. And I know her head is botherin' her, no matter how hard she tries to hide it,” Gus said. “It's not right. She doesn't deserve any of this!”

“Gus, calm yourself.”

“I will not calm myself,” she snapped. “I can't sit by and watch her suffer through another nightmare, Curtis! Or one of those so-called visions she keeps havin'. I can't do it. She needs help and we can't give it to her! So what are we supposed to do? Let her waste away?”

“Shh.”

He pulled Gus into a tight hug. Her shoulders shook against his large frame as he rubbed his hand over her back and whispered soothing words against her ear.

She stepped back from the doorway and returned to the bed. Her own eyes burned and she rubbed at them with a balled fist. She'd never meant to hurt them, but that was exactly what she was doing.

Later, when the two of them joined her for the evening meal, she tried to finish the broth she was brought—she wanted to make Gus happy again—but her stomach threatened to rebel and she had to set it aside. After the two them finished their own bowls of hot cereal, they rose from the floor to leave, but she took Gus's hand in hers before she could go far.

“I...” She cleared her throat, but her voice was still hoarse when she continued. “I'm sorry,” she said. “I want to go with you. Tomorrow.”

The words brought smiles to their faces and she forced one of her own.

It was a lie, but going to see their friend would only hurt them more when they realized she couldn't help her.

Only the skull could.

So late that night, after the two of them had fallen asleep—both sure that she would be there in the morning, waiting to leave—she crept across the front room. They slept pressed together on the cot across from the fire, which burned low in the hearth. Their dog—Clanton, she had heard him called—snored on the floor beside them while a black and orange cat slept peacefully on Curtis's shoulder.

She allowed her gaze to linger on the kind couple who had taken her in.

Then she stepped outside into the dark once more, following the tug of the skull she had neglected for too long.

 

* * *

 

A violent string of visions had left her fallen in a field.

Again.

Thankfully, the snow had melted while she had been with Gus and Curtis, but her head still pounded as she lay in the mud and stared up at the cloudy night sky, trying to recover from the bloody images that had been forced into her mind. She could feel the eyes of those hulking, pale figures lingering on her, watching her from the dark, but if she didn't turn her head, she didn't have to see them.

Cold droplets fell on her face and trickled down her cheek. A flash followed and she winced at the bright light that filled her vision. It was followed by a rumble of thunder that echoed in her chest and made her heart pound.

It was too loud.

Too close.

She pushed herself up from the ground and stumbled forward on shaky legs, her feet slipping in the mud. The rain began to fall in sheets, soaking through the cloak she had taken from the cabin and the clothes she wore as well.

She shivered just as another flash lit the dark sky. A loud crack of thunder followed, shaking the earth beneath her feet. Her breaths came quickly now as fear crept along her spine and made her quicken her pace. She didn't know where she was going—none of the farmers nearby were as friendly as Gus and Curtis had been, so she couldn't stay with them—but as long as she wasn't outside, she didn't care. Even the burning of the mark near her neck couldn't dissuade her from changing course and taking refuge in one of the barns.

A single cow and three chickens shared the barn with her. They didn't seem to mind the company. One of the chickens clucked and bobbed its head as it wandered closer to her, curious about the newcomer cowering against the wall. Another clap of thunder boomed overhead, shaking the barn, and she shrieked as she pressed her hands over her ears and squeezed her eyes shut.

She thought about the vision of the red-haired woman in the tent. The soft hum interspersed with the metal scraping against wood. The way the tip of her tongue had peeked between her lips in concentration.

It had been quiet there.

She had felt safe.

Another crash, and she whimpered as she curled into a ball.

There she stayed for the rest of the night, shaking against the wall.

Unfortunately, the farmer who found her the next morning did not take as kindly to the unexpected guest as the cow and chickens had. She was chased out of the barn by loud, profane shouts and an empty bucket was tossed at her as she fled. Now a new pain pulsated from the back of her shoulder where it had struck her.

She sighed and looked up at the brightening morning sky.

At least the storm had passed.

 

* * *

 

The fields ended and the tug of the skull led her back into the trees. She pulled her cloak tight against her torso and tried to make herself smaller as she passed beneath the bare branches. She preferred the open fields, where there were less spaces for those pale figures to hide themselves.

But the pull was getting stronger.

She was getting closer.

Soon, she would have the skull, and the pale figures with the bloodstained teeth wouldn't be able to find her at all. She'd be able to sleep. The visions would stop, along with the pounding in her head. And maybe...

Maybe she could remember who she was.

She quickened her pace, ignoring the thin branches that clawed at her face and arms. It tugged harder and she nearly stumbled over tree roots in her haste to follow. When she reached the treeline, she did stumble, one last root getting the better of her and hooking around her foot. She had nearly caught her balance when she ran into a solid body.

Her heart jumped into her throat as memories of the pale figures filled her head. She thrashed against the person who held her, sending them both sprawling into soft sand. The person beneath her grunted as they hit the sand and she used the moment to push herself back to her feet.

The skull.

If she could just reach it, those creatures would be gone. They wouldn't be able to hurt her.

Her feet were sluggish in the sand and she wobbled as she followed the pull. A voice called after her, but that didn't matter.

The skull was _so_ close.

She was nearly there.

Then she reached the water's edge, and the flicker of hope she'd felt died. She dropped to her knees and stared as the waves rolled onto the shore and pooled around her legs. Tears pricked at her eyes and she let them fall as she dug her fingers into the sand.

She was on the wrong side.

Someone knelt beside her, but she couldn't drag her eyes away from the water that separated her from the skull. From the salvation it promised. Then warm, brown eyes were looking into hers and water sloshed around the woman who now knelt in front of her.

“Waverly?” The soft voice was colored with disbelief. “Waverly, it... it _is_ you.”

She choked back a sob and squeezed her eyes shut.

A name.

She had a name.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you thought in the comments! Or, shoot me a message on my tumblr: skillzyo.tumblr.com


End file.
